


Walking Home

by nerdqueenenterprise



Series: 100 Ways To Say 'I Love You' [5]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Days, M/M, also paul is a great guy but his pickup lines suck, doesn't mean he and paul should fight tho :(, hugh is exhausted Big Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: Hugh has a thoroughly awful day at work. It's not made better by his vacation falling through.Paul tries his best.





	Walking Home

Hugh smiles his most patient smile, nods, and grips his clipboard a little tighter. It’s his version of bouncing his leg or drumming his fingers, because that would upset patients and relatives alike.

He loves his job, he really does, and he hates checking how many more minutes until he can go home, because these people need him, et cetera, but he has places to go. More specifically, he and Phil are going on a skiing trip, leaving their blond beauties to tend to the fire at home.

Well, Paul and Chris are probably not going to hang out much, seeing how they’re not that close.

It’s a bit sad really, because they’re both very handsome men, but then their characters are so vastly different that -

“Doctor Culber, may I get in a word!”

The speaker is a sweaty, red faced, balding older man, and Hugh was quite obviously in the middle of a conversation. Not that he was following that conversation with particular interest, but…

“Are you a relative of this lady or her son?”

“What?! No, I -”

“Then I think you can wait until I finished talking to her.”

The man clearly hadn’t expected a no.

“But - but - but I -”

“No. Mrs Green, please continue.”

 

 

 

 

He deals with her (“But doctor, I really think my son is going to develop a lactose intolerance, and I really don’t want it to get any worse!” Because lactose intolerance is so incurable. And because of course the kid totally has one.), and then the interruptor, who may or may not have a problem with the fact that his wife only received a talk with her anaesthetist this morning even though her operation started around lunch, and then Hugh moves to quickly hide out in the nurses’ room.

“Have they been like this all day?” he asks nobody in particular, picking up the vital signs chart and flipping through it.

“Yep.” Mimi pats his arm. “Good thing someone is going on vacation, right?”

“Oh yeah. Even though I can totally see it not happening if Sewin doesn’t show up.”

“I thought you got leave approved! What happened?”

“I got leave approved for, um, Paul’s and my winter holiday. This is just me trying to get rid of the overtime, and maybe actually booking something was a little extreme, but I had no reason to think we might be understaffed.”

“Can you get the money back?”

“No. Phil is going to have to take Chris instead, because I know he got leave approved. And I’d then spend tomorrow moping and come back in on Sunday.”

Mimi throws him a sympathetic glance, but before she can say anything, the phone rings and she goes to pick it up.

Hugh keeps looking through the vital signs chart. They’re all fine; he would’ve been told if they hadn’t been, but he still has to look through them and sign them off.

Someone knocks at the open door.

Mimi is the only one staffing the room, and with only three other nurses on duty today (hello autumn and thank you for getting everyone and their kids sick), there’s no way Hugh can make Mimi take care of whoever that is, especially seeing how she’s on the phone.

So he puts the clipboard away and puts on his hi-hello-how can I help you? smile.

“Um, I was hoping to speak to a doctor about my mother…” the young woman trails off, looking unsure.

“Well, I am a doctor and I’m happy to help you. Who is your mother?”

“Uh, Glinda Barnes, room 209?”

“Yeah - yeah, let me just…” Hugh rifles through the files drawer. “209, 209, where is - ah, here we go! Okay, what can I do for you?”

“Well, there was the matter with her meds for high blood pressure. Um, I finally managed to get her GP on the phone, and he told me that they switched her to Lasix recently.”

Mimi shows up at Hugh’s elbow suddenly.

“Hugh, just a quick thing - um, yeah, Sewin is not going to be able to come in. She’s in the ER downstairs with her son, he’s been in an accident and will need emergency surgery.”

“What? Is she okay? Is _he_ okay?”

Mimi shrugs. “Well, you can imagine how she is, and they just took him into surgery. I was thinking, um, I know we’re not enough people today, but…”

“Oh! No, absolutely! Go see her, I’ll be fine.”

“There are also - we need to order new, uh, everything. The list is on the desk, could you -“

“Hey.” Hugh grabs her arm and looks at her. “Go look after Sewin. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry about your vacation.”

“Don’t worry about that. Give her my love, okay? And take as long as you need.”

 

 

 

 

He realizes that that might have been a mistake when it’s two hours later and Mimi is still not back. There’s an intern from another station helping out now, and Hugh already called Phil to tell him their vacation has fallen through; he also texted Paul, who… still hasn’t replied, great.

“Just ask him whether he wants vegetarian or not.”

“Yeah, okay,” the intern replies, her voice a lot closer than the one before.

Hugh looks up. The girl is hovering in the door, looking a little unsure.

“Uh, Joanne asks whether you want vegetarian dinner or -”

“Are we talking about hospital food here, or…?”

“Yeah?”

“Alright, get Joanne here, because I’m not going to eat hospital food, so I’ll order something.”

 

 

 

 

By the time the night shift is already half an hour late, Hugh is called on a merry little tour of the house and his feet are _aching_ , so he opts to take the elevator up to the twelfth floor.

It’s the slowest elevator ever, so he leans against the wall and checks his phone.

_hey are you ever going to come home for dinner?_

_love u!!!!!!!_

Hugh smiles tiredly. He loves his husband too.

_Maybe. Provided the night shift ever shows up and every station in this whole house stops needing a doctor just as I thought I could leave. You’d think it’s enough that my holiday fell through, but if they ever decide to pay us overtime I’m going to be able to buy you a diamond the size of my ass._ he texts back.

Then he sighs. His frustration is probably palpable through the writing, and he feels a little bad for having it out on Paul, but hey, by this time he should already be sniffing his first snow, with a hot meal in his belly, jokingly texting Paul about how he needs his husband to keep him warm.

_Sorry._

_I probably won’t be home, ever. Might well get past midnight - there are no buses going this late, so I’ll have to walk, and my feet are killing me already._

_Love you._

Paul starts texting back, but the elevator arrives and Hugh has to get out.

He only reads Paul’s reply on his way down again -

_hey don’t feel bad! i left leftovers and i’ll feed you and give you a foot rub if you want? or just cuddle you lots. i’m sorry life dicked you over <3_

Oh, it sure did that. Especially since it just so happened that both their cars need repairs and are at the shop, and it had been raining enough for you to drown just walking down the streets, so Hugh didn’t bike to work. He hadn’t expected to have to stay so long that there are no buses going anymore.

Which is fine. Cool. Whatever. It’s not like Hugh can barely walk.

 

 

 

 

A few round trips more and the night shift finally shows up, just as Hugh has finally collapsed into a chair to get some weight off his aching feet, so he stays for shift transfer, even though he technically doesn’t have to, but he just can’t be bothered to get up again.

They’re just about to get up and get the hell out of dodge when there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Hugh calls, already quietly agreeing that he’ll murder whoever it is because he’s not lifting a single finger today anymore.

The door opens and a very familiar bespectacled cutie peeks through.

“Um, hi? I’ve been told that there’s a doctor here in need of hugs,” Paul says, pushing the door further open and leaning against the frame. “Hi love.”

Something in Hugh’s chest loosens and he manages an actual smile.

“Paul.”

“Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

“I love you. So much.”

Paul grins and does that nose scrunchy thing to push his glasses up into their spot again without using his hands, and Hugh’s heart is filled with the golden warmth that’s Paul. 

He pushes himself up from the chair with a little groan, then a wince when he puts weight on his feet again.

“I have no idea what you’re doing here, but… let me get changed, okay?”

 

 

 

 

His trainers feel a little better on his feet, the gel heels hugging his poor abused soles. Paul takes his hand and presses a gentle kiss to Hugh’s cheek, and then they finally get out of the fucking place.

“So, how come I’m being picked up by a very handsome guy tonight?”

Paul squeezes his fingers and smiles. 

“Because you’re feeling like garbage and as an environmentally conscious person, I’m obligated to pick you up.”

The laughter just bursts out of Hugh without him getting a say in it, and already he feels a little better.

“That was _horrible_!”

“Made you smile.” Paul tugs Hugh close and wraps his arm around his waist. “So, wanna tell me what happened?”

Hugh leans into Paul and sighs. 

“Just… you know, everything going wrong. We’re super understaffed at the moment, what with everyone getting sick, and then the afternoon doctor shift couldn’t come in because her son had been in an accident and needed emergency surgery, and… fuck, I don’t know. It was one of those days where life itself is against you, and - fuck, Paul, I had been looking forward to going skiing so much, and hanging out with Phil, and getting some of that damn overtime off, and now here I am, with my feet hurting, and I did two shifts today, and literally nothing else, and I don’t - I don’t even feel fulfilled by today, I just feel like shit. And there’s no way I won’t have to come in tomorrow. I can already see the text, ’Hey, Hugh, we need you to come in today to cover someone’s shift because everyone always gets an excuse for not coming in, and who cares that you could take a full month off for all your overtime’,” Hugh spits out.“You know, everyone has kids or a sick dog or a grandma, and I _always_ cover everyone’s shifts, but if I don’t want to come in or don’t feel so good, then it’s always something about how they need me and how they’re understaffed and I always come in. And it’s - sometimes it feels like the shift plans get deliberately written against me, and I have to beg to get the day off that I’d already requested I get off because I want to have a date night with my husband once every fucking ten years or something.” He exhales shakily. “Sorry. Fuck. I’m just. I don’t know, so frustrated sometimes, and I don’t know whether that’s ridiculous and I’m overreacting, or whether this is actually how it is. Sorry for yelling. Fuck. And sorry for swearing. Sorry for being in this mood when you were just being nice and picking me up. Sorry for -”

“Stop apologizing,” Paul interrupts him. “You have every reason to be pissed. Hugh, listen. I - I don’t want to start this talk right now, and I think it’s something we should really talk about in a calm moment where we can properly talk about it, when you’ve calmed down and got to relax a little, but I agree with you. Maybe something has to change. But - let’s not think about that right now, okay? Just - feel free to keep ranting if that’s what you need right now. I’ll listen to you. Let’s get you home and into bed.”

 

 

 

 

As predicted, Hugh is called in the next morning, causing him to be the snappiest and grumpiest towards Paul that he’s ever been. Paul snaps back too, maybe too much; partly because he really doesn’t like being snapped at, especially if he’s been nothing but patient and obliging, partly because he, too, misses spending time with Hugh, since Hugh often has the afternoon shift, and yeah, he’d be a lot happier if his husband learned to just say no sometimes. Shouldn’t be too hard, since that’d mean Hugh could actually spend some time with the guy he says he loves enough to have married, but here they are anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the beginning of the Sad y'all  
> i promise i'll fix it though!!


End file.
